Return Again
by rebecca-in-blue
Summary: "Tony's instincts must have taken the day off, because he had no clue what was coming." My AU take on Ziva returning to DC and Gibbs's team. Slight Tiva.
1. Prologue

Well, it's been a while since I wrote for this fandom. I'm a little rusty, and I'm sure it shows. This is my own take on Ziva returning to Washington DC and Gibbs's team, set a little over a year after 11x02 "Past Present, and Future."

In this fic (unlike on the show), Ziva didn't get pregnant with Tony's baby and never tell him about it, because wow, what a horrible thing to do to somebody. But like on the show, she hasn't had any contact with the team while she was away. This fic will probably be 4-5 chapters, and I hope to have it finished before the new season starts this fall.

For my own reference: 124th fanfiction, 38th story for _NCIS_.

* * *

Between his years as a cop, his years as an NCIS agent, and good old-fashioned instinct, Tony can usually tell when things are about go south. He knew that Michael Rivkin was bad news as soon as he found out about him. He got the same bad feeling with Detective Parsons when he first showed up - over a year ago now - trying to take down Gibbs and their whole team.

But that day, the day he saw Ziva again, Tony's instincts must have taken that day off, because he never saw it coming. He had no clue what was about to hit him, just like a lot of the poor bastards whose murders he's solved over the years.

That day, their team actually wraps up the case at a decent hour, and Tony leaves headquarters in a good, easy mood. Such a good mood that he decides to pick up an expensive bottle of bourbon and stop by Gibbs's place. He doesn't have any real plans for what they'll do together, but he expects to find Gibbs tinkering with that old junk car in the garage - he's been doing that more since Jackson died - or doing woodwork in the basement. He figures that Gibbs will put him to work with some simple task, and they'll drink the bourbon together, and just relax - a nice, normal, late summer evening.

Gibbs's front door is never locked, of course, so Tony bounces up the front steps, pushes it open, steps inside... and that's when the bottle of bourbon slips from his hand and shatters, spraying shards of glass all over Gibb's living room floor. But Tony doesn't even notice because there, right there in front of him, is Ziva. She was crossing the living room when he came in, but when they see each other, she freezes where she is behind the couch, like a deer caught in the headlights.

Tony's mouth falls open slightly, and his eyes go open wide, and _what an idiot you must look like right now, DiNozzo,_ but he can't help it. He can't tear his eyes away from Ziva. He stares at her intently, almost hungrily, as if his eyes have been starving for the sight of her.

Her hair is dark, wild curls again, like it was when they first met... and has she gained a few pounds? But it suits her - her body is a bit rounder, softer. She's dressed much the same as when he last saw her in Israel over a year ago, in plain, loose-fitting jeans and shirt. Tony can't stop staring, but Ziva's reaction is more controlled. She stands stiffly on the other side of the couch, as still as a statue. Not even her hair moves in the breeze from the ceiling fan. She looks a bit nervous, Tony thinks, _but how would you know, DiNozzo? You haven't even her in almost fourteen months._

For a moment, the last five years fade away, and Tony is back in that hot, sandy terrorist camp in Somalia, tied to a chair as Saleem yanks the burlap bag off Ziva's head. He feels that same scorching shock pound out of his heart and course through his veins. He hears that same mantra blare inside his head, drowning out all other coherent thought.

_It's her it's her it's Ziva she's here she's alive oh my God, it's her it's her it's really her_

* * *

I know that was short, but it's meant to be more of a prologue than a proper first chapter. I hope you'll stay tuned for more!


	2. Gibbs's House

I've seen a few "Ziva returns" fanfics where Tony falls all over himself with joy at the sight of her. Let's just say, that doesn't quite happen here.

* * *

Tony doesn't know how long he and Ziva stand there in Gibbs's living room, staring at each other. It feels like a long time, but it can't be more than a few seconds, and then the smash of the broken bottle brings Gibbs thumping upstairs from the basement. He stops in the doorway, looks at Tony, looks at Ziva, then looks down at the broken bottle.

The dark liquid is slowly spreading in a puddle across Gibbs's hardwood floor, and the entire room reeks with the strong smell of it. Gibbs shakes his head. "Damn waste of good bourbon," he mutters.

His voice is enough to make Tony remember how to talk, although he fumbles for words through his shock. "Boss, I... Ziva... how..." _God, snap out of it, DiNozzo! _He starts over and demands an explanation in the loudest, angriest, bluntest way possible. "What the _hell_?"

But Gibbs just ignores him and goes into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a mop and a roll of paper towels, which he deposits on the couch. "Clean it up," he orders, in a tone that's short even for him, and then he disappears again, thumping back down to his basement.

Tony huffs angrily, grabs the paper towels, and throws a sheet over the spill before it spreads any further. Ziva grabs the mop, and before he knows it, they're kneeling side-by-side on the floor, carefully picking up the sharp fragments of glass together.

It's a surreal experience to be working together with Ziva again, just like they always did in the field. It's surreal to have her this close to him again. She even smells the same - that spicy-sweet aroma, like sandelwood. How he's missed the smell of her. Part of him is tempted to lean in closer to her and breathe it in deeply.

He still hasn't recovered from the shock of seeing her again, but he's quicker to find his voice now. He knows that he has to start talking to her while they're still cleaning up the spill and the broken glass. Looking at her makes it too hard to find any words, _and when you're done with this, what are you going to look at, DiNozzo?_

He takes a deep breath and tries to sort out what to ask her first. "So, how long you been in town?"

"A few weeks," Ziva answers softly - the first words that she's said since Tony got here, and the first time that he's actually heard her voice since he left her in Israel. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her glance at him - trying to gauge his reaction, probably - then look away again. She adds, even more softly, "I have been staying here, with Gibbs."

"You-" Tony tries to say, but his brain slams into defense mode, and he chokes on the word.

Ziva has been staying with Gibbs for a few weeks - _a few weeks!_ \- and Gibbs hasn't said one word about it to Tony. He's kept it a secret... from everyone? Or just from Tony? Tony closes his eyes briefly and braces himself for the worst possibility: that Abby and McGee have known that Ziva's back, that they've seen her and talked to her already, and maybe even Ducky and Palmer too, all while keeping Tony in the dark.

No, the team wouldn't do that to him. They would've told him... wouldn't they? But Gibbs has kept it a secret for this long, and Ziva and McGee were secretly tracking Bodnar for months before either of them told Tony about it.

He tries to ask the question, but before he can, Ziva says softly, "Tony... you're bleeding."

Only then does he realize that he's gripped one broken piece of the bottle too hard, slicing his fingers. Dark red blood drips from his hand onto Gibbs's floor, adding to the mess.

Ziva reaches her hand out towards his bloody one, but Tony jerks away before she can touch him.

He pushes himself to his feet in a motion that isn't smooth at all, goes into the kitchen, and turns on the hot water. He holds his bleeding hand under the tap and watches the water run red down the drain. Ziva follows him into the kitchen after a moment, and Tony is able to get out what he'd tried to say earlier.

"You've been staying here with Gibbs," he repeats, his voice angry and raw.

Ziva takes a deep breath. "Yes," she nods, "but please do not be angry with Gibbs. I asked him not to tell anybody that I was back for... for a little while, and he has not."

Well, at least nobody else on the team knew that she was back, either. At least he wasn't the only one. Tony turns off the water and whirls around the sink to face her. "Were you _ever_ going to tell us you were back?"

She purses her lips, a bit hurt. "Tony, of course I was. I just wanted to-"

"Do you have any idea what's been going on since you left?" he interrupts, his voice rising to almost a yell."_Any_ idea?"

There's an uncomfortable silence for a moment; Ziva seems to be waiting for him to talk, to tell her what's been going on, but when Tony thinks of the last fourteen months since he left her in Israel, his head spins with too many memories, too much hurt, and he doesn't know where to begin.

The strange sight of other women - first Agent Grady, then Agent Bishop, whom, Tony admits, he's grown to like - sitting across the bullpen from him at Ziva's desk. That empty, aching hole inside him when something funny or unusual happened, and he still thought, _I can't wait to tell Ziva about this,_ then remembered that he couldn't tell Ziva anything anymore. All those stupid pranks that he'd pulled on the team at Halloween, a pathetic attempt distract himself from the pain.

No, he can't tell Ziva about any of that. He's still too hurt, too raw. So after a moment of painful silence, he decides to stick to shop talk and news about their team members.

"For starters, Gibbs and McGee had to go to Afghanistan," he spits out bitterly. As he goes on, he pushes past Ziva into the living room and goes back to cleaning up the spill. She's picked up the rest of the broken glass, so all that's left to do is wipe up the bourbon. "I had to shoot a man in front of my father, and then, even _worse_, he dropped a bomb that he's getting remarried and he wants _me_ to plan the wedding. Jimmy and Breena wanted to adopt a baby, and last spring, a pregnant woman picked them out, and they were all ready to bring the baby home from the hospital, but then she changed her mind after it was born, and they were crushed. We've kept trying to track down Parsa, and we thought we'd caught him at this charity ball in January, but he'd arranged a drone attack on the place. McGee's girlfriend, Delilah - you might not remember her, they'd just started dating before you split - she was injured and nearly died, and now she's _paralyzed_. She's in a _wheelchair_, but she and McGee worked through it, and they're still together. It was so damn inspirational, I told McGee they could be the basis for a TV movie. They're living together now. And I'm sure you remember Jackson. Gibbs's dad? Well, he died at the beginning of the summer. It was a stroke, real sudden."

The floor is clean again, and his tongue is tired, so he finally raises his eyes to look at Ziva. There's no mistaking the surprise on her face as she processes everything that's happened during her absence.

"I did not know..." she begins, then falters. "I mean, Gibbs told me Jackson had died, but-"

He interrupts her again. "But a lot of it is news to you, right?" he accuses, standing up. "A lot of it you didn't know? Well, that isn't because we decided we didn't want you in our lives, Ziva. It isn't because _we_ cut off all contact with _you_."

Ziva's dark eyes flash at him, and for the first time since Tony walked through the door, she looks angry, too. But before she can answer, Gibbs comes back upstairs from the basement.

"Told ya this would happen," he says casually to Ziva, as if none of this is any big deal. "Told ya to tell the team you were back in DC. Told ya to tell _DiNozzo_, before he found out."

Tony can't remember when he's ever been so angry at Gibbs. "_You_ could've told us she was back, Boss, if you wanted us to know so badly," he accuses, almost yelling again. "She's been staying with you the whole damn time, and you never told us!"

"I _would_ have, if I'd known you were gonna drop a bottle of bourbon all over my floor."

"We cleaned it all up," Tony grumbles.

"You damn well better have. I'm having Amira over to play this weekend, and if she gets one shard of glass in her foot, I'll bust both your asses."

It's on the tip of Tony's tongue to reply to Gibbs with some witty joke or movie reference, like he's done so many times before... but he can't find it in him now. The threat of Gibbs busting his ass suddenly seems so stupid, so childish. Ziva has been back in town, staying with Gibbs, for a few weeks, and Gibbs has kept it a secret from him. What could he possibly do that would ever hurt Tony more than that? Nothing. The hard truth of that sinks into Tony with a heavy, depressing realization, and without another word to either of them, he turns around and walks out.

"Tony, wait," Ziva calls after him, but he doesn't even slow down. "Wait, let me put a bandage on your hand, or you'll get..."

He walks out and slams the door hard behind him, before she can finish, "...a scar."


	3. Tony's Apartment

I realized that I haven't said it yet, so if anyone was wondering, the title of this story comes from a traditional Jewish song sung at the High Holy Days.

* * *

Tony twists the radio dial from one end of the frequency to the other, but all the stations seem to playing moody, depressing songs on the drive from Gibbs's house back to his apartment. He can't find anything upbeat or cheerful, and the rain finally starts while he's driving, and he almost laughs a bitter laugh at himself. Driving around in the rain listening to mopey songs - _you've turned into a cliche right out of a chick-flick, DiNozzo._

He tries another radio station, but this one is on an even worse song. _"Nothing compares, no worries or cares, regrets and mistakes-"_

Tony switches the radio off then, and drives the rest of the way home in silence. At some point, he realizes that his hand is still bleeding from where he cut it on the broken bottle - a slow, steady bleed - and now he's smeared blood on his pants, his steering wheel, and even the buttons of his car radio. But he doesn't bother trying to wipe it off, and when he gets back to his apartment, he doesn't put a bandage on it, either. Instead, he paces his living room for several minutes, his bloody hand clenched into a tight fist, the shock and anger still pounding through him. He would drink that entire bottle of bourbon by himself now to drown his sorrows, if he hadn't dropped it all over Gibbs's floor. But he did drop it, so he paces instead, his fists clenched in anger at Ziva for reappearing in his life so suddenly, at Gibbs for letting her stay with him and not telling anyone, and most of all, at himself for leaving Ziva in Israel over a year ago. Why couldn't he convince her to come back to DC with him?

He stops pacing when he suddenly knows what to do. He grabs his phone and texts Abby. _Hey, need to talk, you busy?_ Abby calls him a few minutes later, and almost before she can even say hello, Tony blurts out the entire story. He spills everything into Abby's sympathetic ear - finding Ziva at Gibbs's house, dropping the bottle of bourbon, his bleeding hand, and how he finally walked out - while she listens closely, quiet except for when she murmurs, "Oh, my god" or gasps, "Wow, really?" at the right moments.

"Geez," Abby says softly, after a long silence, when Tony reaches the end of his tale. "Geez, I feel so bad for you, Tony. I mean, that must have been just, like, a crazy shock, seeing Ziva again after all this time. I can't believe she's been in DC for a few weeks."

"I know," Tony agrees softly. Her words do make him feel a little better. Abby is the perfect person to talk to about this; she's warm and sympathetic, but she also doesn't pry.

"Well, I know you're probably still reeling from it, but I just know everything will seem better in the morning, okay? Hey, do you want me to come over to your place? I was supposed to go bowling with Sister Rosalita tonight, but she'll understand if I can't make it. We could make some popcorn and watch a movie or something - whatever you want."

At the mention of watching a movie, Tony's brain starts moving fast, and he turns towards his bookcase and scans the rows of DVDs until he finds the right one - _Kramer vs. Kramer_. "Dustin Hoffman didn't want her back," he says suddenly.

"Huh?" Abby asks.

"Dustin Hoffman, Meryl Streep, _Kramer vs. Kramer_." Tony's talking faster now, like he always does when he's on the subject of movies. "In the movie, Meryl Streep left him to go _find herself,_ which was a lame excuse even _then_, and then she showed up again over a year later, thinking she could just come back to find everything exactly as she left it, except that Dustin Hoffman didn't want her back anymore." He pauses and says it again, almost spitting out the words. "He didn't want her back."

"Tony, you don't-"

"That was Meryl Streep's first Oscar win... or, no, wait..." Tony blinks and rubs one hand against his face. He's usually so on-point with his movie trivia, but seeing again must have really scrambled his brain because now, for the life of him, he can't remember if _Kramer vs. Kramer _was before or after _Sophie's Choice_.

"Tony, listen to me," Abby says sternly. "Do you remember about eight years ago, when Gibbs was in that ship explosion and he lost his memory and nearly died? And we were all so scared we were going to lose him that Ziva and I both snapped and slapped each other across the face?"

"Yeah," Tony answers, nodding as he thinks back. Ziva and Abby had coped very differently with Gibbs being injured - Abby got all weepy and emotional, while Ziva went into stone-cold assassin mode - and at some point, they'd both lost their tempers and slapped each other. Tony hadn't actually seen it happen, but he'd heard about it, and it always sounded so sexy to him. But the sight had been wasted on McGee, who'd backed up against the wall of Abby's lab and nearly pissed his pants.

"Yeah, but we got over it and became friends again, and part of that was because you were team leader while Gibbs was out, and you made us shake hands, remember? Well, that's what you and Ziva need to do now - call a truce and shake hands, okay?" Abby sounds pleased with herself for having thought of this, as if the solution to everything really is as simple as a handshake.

"Yeah, I guess," Tony says vaguely, but his mind is still on _Kramer vs. Kramer._ Practically all his life, Tony has mimicked what he sees men do in classic movies. He's quoted their lines and copied their styles. In this situation, he could play Dustin Hoffman's role. He could reject Ziva for reappearing so abruptly on him after so long. But does he really _want_ to be Dustin Hoffman?

Tony and Abby talk for a little longer after that, and before they end their call, she reassures him that everything will seem better tomorrow. After he hangs up, Tony goes into his bathroom and finally does something about the cut on his hand. He presses gingerly at the sliced skin, decides that it doesn't need stitches, washes it out, and puts a bandage over it. Under the bright bathroom lights, the cut doesn't look as serious as he'd feared. It had bled so much at first, but with a little time, his hand would heal and feel as good as new. For the first time since he saw Ziva again, Tony feels a flicker of hope.

* * *

Gibbs comes back downstairs after his shower and finds Ziva pacing back and forth across his living room floor. She's all stiff muscles and tense movements, each turn fast and sharp, and her dark eyes are stormier than the rainclouds outside.

"I should not have come back here," she blurts out, before he can say anything. "I knew I should not have come back. It was a mistake. Now I've made a mess of things." She doesn't look at him or stop her pacing as she says it. She reminds him of a trapped animal pacing the length of a cage.

Gibbs glances at the spot in front of the door where Tony dropped the bottle of bourbon. The smell of it still lingers, but they cleaned it up so thoroughly that he can't even tell quite where it was anymore. "You cleaned it all up," he points out.

Ziva finally stops pacing, looks at him, and sighs. "You know I am not talking about... that, Gibbs. I made you and Tony yell at each other."

"So?" he asks, shrugging. "You think me and DiNozzo never yelled at each other before?"

Of course they had. For all of Tony's loyalty, he had never been afraid to stand up to their boss. She had seen them yell at each other several times over the years, without any help from her. But still, "I do not like to be the cause of it. He is angry at me."

"He ain't pissed at you. He just feels stupid for dropping that bourbon."

She knows that Gibbs is right about this, that Tony probably does feel stupid - stupid and shocked and completely caught off-guard, and who wouldn't? She'd quit the team that she'd fought so hard to be a part of. She'd left the country that she'd studied so long to become a citizen of. She'd walked away from Tony and her old life completely, and now, without any warning, she was back. She'd just reappeared like a lightning bolt out of the blue, and the shockwaves of it had sent Tony reeling right out of Gibbs's front door.

"I will fix this, Gibbs. I will... make you breakfast in the morning," she says a bit desperately, as if making breakfast could solve all of their problems. Ziva has been fixing most of his meals since she's been here. It seems like the least she can do for Gibbs's letting her stay with him, and besides, she's always liked to cook. "Anything you like. What would you like?"

He smirks and orders breakfast the way he does in the diner down the street sometimes. "Scrambled. Black." Ziva usually teases him when he gets this blunt, but this time, she doesn't even smile. She still looks despondent, so Gibbs steps closer to her and adds, "Hey, you didn't make a mess of things."

"But I..." she starts to protest.

"You didn't," he cuts her off firmly, and she finally looks him in the eye and nods. His message seems to get through to her, but when Gibbs goes to bed that night, he isn't sure what he'll wake up to in the morning - whether Ziva will have made him breakfast, or whether she'll have disappeared from their lives again.


	4. The Bullpen

Tony isn't quite sure how the news about Ziva travels after he gets off the phone with Abby that night. Probably Abby calls McGee and tells him, then McGee calls Ducky, Ducky calls Palmer, and at some point in the chain, someone calls Ellie, too. But Tony's glad that he doesn't have to break the news to anyone else - even if half the agency _does_ seem to know that Ziva's back in DC by the time he gets in to work the next morning.

He, McGee, and Ellie arrive in the bullpen before Gibbs, and Ducky stops by before he heads down to autopsy, so they all gather around Tony's desk to talk and digest the news. "I can't believe Gibbs didn't tell us," McGee says for the second time. "A few weeks Ziva's been in town, and he didn't tell us."

"But Gibbs is a functional mute," Ellie argues. "I don't think I've heard him put ten words together since I joined the team. I don't think he would do it if his life depended on it."

"So?" Tony huffs, still angry at Gibbs and Ziva both. "How many words would it have taken? _'Ziva's back, she's at my place.'_ Even Gibbs could've managed _that_."

"Seeing Ziva again like that must have been quite a shock for you, dear boy," Ducky says consolingly, but his words only make Tony feel worse. Ducky has always been so perceptive, and he can probably see past Tony's angry facade, see right through to how hurt he really is. Tony stiffens, says nothing, and is grateful when Ellie fills the tense silence.

"So, um, this might be an awkward question," she ventures slowly, "but do you think Ziva will... you know, want her old spot on the team back?"

The three of them all answer her at once. "Nah," Tony shakes his head, at the same time that McGee says, "Yeah, probably," and Ducky answers, "Well, one can never be sure."

They all glance around at each other, puzzled by their different responses, and that's when the elevator doors slide open, and Gibbs steps off. Tony stiffens again at the sight of his boss arriving at work as usual. Gibbs probably saw Ziva just a little while ago, before he left his house that morning. This is how he's arrived at the agency every day for the past few weeks - pretending that everything was normal, pretending that he hadn't seen Ziva in over a year, much less seen her just a few minutes ago. Day after day after day, he's lived that lie, never breathing one word about her to the guys.

Tony and McGee both pin him with their most accusing glares, but before they can say anything, Gibbs announces bluntly, "We got a case. Grab your gear," and the team does.

Their case is a doozy - not just one dead Petty Officer but two, found under a highway overpass in a rough neighborhood. The team stays so busy collecting evidence, interviewing witnesses, notifying the families, and tracking down a string of drug dealers who know nothing that they don't have time to discuss Ziva again. She's never far from Tony's mind, though - or anyone else's, he's sure.

They have to work late that evening, and Tony is surprised when Gibbs pockets his phone and announces, "Ordered some dinner for us. Should be here in about twenty." It's an unusually generous move from Gibbs, who's been quiet all day - quiet even by _his_ standards - and Tony wonders if dinner is supposed to be his boss's peace offering.

But then, about twenty minutes later, Tony looks up when the elevators door ding, and he startles a bit when Ziva steps off. Of course it's not as shocking as seeing her at Gibb's house last night, but still, it's more of a shock than he expected to see Ziva back in the bullpen again, turning the corner around their desks like she always did. The familiar sight of her against the tacky orange walls... For a moment, it's almost like she hadn't been gone for over a year, almost like not a single day had passed.

The past and the present blur together inside Tony's head, the years all jumbled-up and confusing, and he can't find the words to say anything, but it doesn't matter this time, because Ziva fills the silence for him. She's loaded down with food: two pizza boxes, two bags from the deli, and a tray of drinks.

"Gibbs texted me that you would all be here late tonight," she says, smiling. "So I brought you some dinner."

"Ziva!" McGee exclaims, jumping up from his chair. He runs out from behind his desk and grabs her up in a tight hug, nearly knocking the food out of her hands. "You're back! It's so good to see you again!"

Tony is still sitting at his desk, and as he watches McGee greet Ziva, he's blindsided by a sudden, fierce jealousy. God, seeing the two of them together... it's so friendly, so _easy_. There's been been anything confusing or complicated between Ziva and McGee.

"God, it's been so long! I missed you!"

"I know. I missed you too, McGee. It's good to be back."

They're just happy to see each other again - as simple as that. Neither one of them is worried about where they'll go from here or how they'll get there. Neither one of them is scared of being hurt again.

Tony has to look away. It's almost physically painful for him to see.

Gibbs, meanwhile, has rescued the food cartons from Ziva and set them on his own desk. He pulls out a slice of pepperoni and shoves half of it into his mouth at once. Gibbs nodded at Ziva when she arrived, but he hasn't said anything to her, and neither has Tony. He hasn't even gotten up from his desk. He watches as she hands McGee a drink, and that when he notices that she has an NCIS visitor's badge on a lanyard around her neck, but there's no accompanying agent with her.

"You're not an agent anymore," Tony says, keeping his voice carefully neutral. "How are allowed in here unaccompanied?"

"I spoke to Director Vance, and he said he would make a special exception in my case," Ziva answers as she hands Tony his soda, then some napkins and a straw. Her voice is just as smooth, just as casual, and Tony can't decide quite how to take that. _Is she losing her detective skills, or did you lose your subtlety, DiNozzo?_ "Probably because I brought food for him, too," she adds, smirking.

That's all the attention that she gives him, the few seconds that it takes to hand him his drink. As soon as she does, her dark eyes move from Tony to Ellie, and she pulls another drink out of the tray. "And you must be Agent Bishop. I did not know what you liked to drink, so I hope Diet Coke is okay."

Ellie has opened the two bags that Ziva brought along with the pizza boxes. One contains sliced vegetables - red peppers, celery, and baby carrots with a dipping packet of ranch suace - the other, chocolate chip cookies, and Ellie helps herself to some of both. "Yeah, nice to finally meet you," she answers, smiling at Ziva. "You brought me food, and in my book, anybody who brings me food is a friend."

"And I brought a Caf-Pow for Abby," Ziva says. She lifts the last drink from the tray, and through the lid, Tony can see the familiar, raspberry-red liquid. "Abby still drinks Caf-Pow, yes?"

"I'm not sure I've ever seen her drink anything else," Ellie says.

"It's not like everything in the world's changed, Ziva," McGee adds, laughing a little. The food has raised their spirits - or is that Ziva's presence? "I mean, you've only been gone for a year."

_Fourteen months,_ Tony nearly corrects him, but he bites back the words. So far, he hasn't said anything to Ziva except to ask her about being here unaccompanied, and he doesn't want to. He wants to appear as neutral, as carefully controlled as he can until he's had more time to process her reappearance. But he can feel the resentment rising in him as he watches Ziva, McGee, and Ellie chatting together so easily, so comfortably. _What a pretty picture the three of you make,_ he nearly spits at them.

"Hey, we still got a case to solve," Gibbs reminds his agents then, and McGee and Ellie both grab their plates and return to their desks to get back to work. It takes a moment for Tony's mind to shift back to what he had been doing, and when it does, he remembers that Abby was still working on processing the blood found on Petty Officer Fajer's body.

"I'm better head down to the lab, Boss," Tony tells Gibbs, standing up from his desk. As he heads across the bullpen for the elevators, he goes on, "I'll check and see if Abby's gotten any DNA results for us yet."

Gibbs just nods, and Tony has nearly reached the elevators when Ziva says brightly, "Great! I'll join you. I can give Abby her Caf-Pow."

Tony's face reveals nothing, but inside, he panics. He definitely does _not_ want to be alone with Ziva again inside this elevator, the place where they've had so many charged conversations. He tries to invent some reason why Ziva can't come to Abby's lab with him, but nothing springs to mind, and before he can stop her, Ziva has stepped right onto the elevator with him. Tony can smell that sandalwood scent of her again, and he suddenly remembers, much too vividly, when Ziva broke down crying on his shoulder in this very elevator, after Mike Franks was killed.

Tony stares straight ahead at the elevator doors as they slide closed. Not even his eyes slide over to get a glimpse of Ziva. He takes deep breath, determined stay neutral, to make this nothing more than a regular trip down to Abby's lab.


	5. Abby's Lab

I don't know why, but the Ziva/Abby reunion in this scene was _so_ hard for me to write. Thanks again to everyone who's reviewed! The next chapter will be the last one.

* * *

"So that was Agent Bishop," Ziva says casually, almost as soon as the elevator doors slide closed. "It was good to meet her. Gibbs has spoken highly of her."

Tony's determination to not look at her, to keep staring straight ahead, doesn't last for long. The idea of Gibbs speaking highly of anyone is just so ridiculous that he can't help it. Before he can stop himself, he turns to look at Ziva with the same smirk, the same _Really, Zi?_ expression that he used to give her whenever she messed up an American idiom. It's only a little troubling how easily he falls into it and how natural it feels.

And apparently, Ziva still recognizes that look, because she corrects herself. "Well, actually, all that Gibbs has said is _'she's good,' _but you know, from Gibbs, that's high praise." She pauses, then goes on delicately, shifting on her feet a bit, "I thought Agent Bishop might be wondering if I wanted my old spot on the team back. If that does come up, would you mind... would you let her know that I don't? I asked Gibbs this already, but I wanted to tell you too, in case..."

She goes on, but Tony doesn't catch the rest of it. His mind is too focused on the implications of what she's just said. If Ziva isn't coming back to their team, if she's already made her mind up about that...

"I guess that means you're not staying in DC, then?" he interrupts.

Ziva doesn't answer right away. She takes a deep breath and turns to face him full-on, and Tony isn't sure whether it's the elevator or time or the spinning of the globe or the beating of his heart, but when she looks at him, he swears that he feels _something_ slow to a stop.

"I have not decided yet, Tony. I am sorry. I know that is not fair to you, but it's the truth. I have not decided. But what I do know is this... if I _do_ stay in DC, I am not coming back to NCIS. It is..." And she falls silent for so long that Tony doesn't think she's going to speak again, but then she finishes, "...too much."

Tony suddenly remembers that last year, before he left Ziva in Israel - _You left her there, you left her!_ that familiar voice inside his head screams at him. _This is your fault!_ \- he had made a joke that if Ziva didn't want to stay with NCIS, she could always come back to DC and bag groceries for a living.

"You going to take my advice about working in a supermarket, then?"

His attempt at a joke must work, because Ziva relaxes again. She shakes her head, smiling a bit, then answers, "Actually, last week, I started volunteering at a domestic violence shelter. It has been... well, I like to think I am making a difference."

"I didn't know you were doing that," Tony says softly, honestly.

"Gibbs told me there a lot of ways to do good besides being an NCIS agent. I want to... try out a few, see if I can find one that suits me." She shrugs, a little embarrassed, and admits, "But I haven't made any real plans for the future besides that."

Tony glances up at the spot above the elevator doors where the floor level is displayed. He would swear that no trip down to Abby's lab has ever taken so long, but suddenly, he doesn't mind quite so much.

"And this weekend, Gibbs is having Leyla and Amira over," Ziva adds brightly. Tony nods, remembering now that Gibbs mentioned that at his house last night. She goes on, smiling, "I am looking forward to it. I have not seen them since I got back to DC, and–"

"Amira won't remember you," Tony interrupts.

He doesn't mean for the words to be hurtful, but as soon as he sees Ziva's expression, he realizes that they are. She falls silent, her smile slips from her face, and her dark eyes lose all their excitement. A wave of guilt washes over Tony, and in some ways, it's almost a relief. It's really the first time since he saw Ziva again that he's felt anything but anger towards her.

"I didn't mean... It's just... well, you've been gone for over a year, Zi. Do you know how long a _year_ feels to a kid Amira's age?"

Ziva is silent for a moment, then says slowly, "I had not considered that." Even softer, "I did not consider... many things, I suppose." But then she raises her head and looks at him again, and Tony is surprised to see a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"What?" he asks, a bit caught off-guard by this sudden shift back to happiness.

"You called me Zi."

* * *

Abby has heavy-metal music blasting in her lab, like she usually does when she's working. Ziva lingers outside the doorway for a moment, her fingers fidgeting with the Caf-Pow cup in her hand, suddenly as nervous as a kid on the first day of school. She replays the scene of Gibbs's house last night - how angry Tony had been at seeing her again. What if her reunion with Abby goes just as badly? Or even worse?

_This is ridiculous,_ Ziva, she scolds herself. _You have tracked down terrorists. You are a trained assassin._ She not be scared of Abby Scuito, of all people. And with that, she squares her shoulders and marches into the lab, the Caf-Pow held out in front of her like a peace offering.

Abby is standing with her back to Ziva, analyzing something on her mass spectrometer. Ziva takes a deep breath and calls, "Abby?" raising her voice a little to be heard over the music.

Abby whirls around, her pigtails swinging. As soon as she sees Ziva, she switches off her music, and Ziva immediately wishes that she hadn't. The sudden silence is loud and much too charged.

"You _left_," Abby accuses, almost yelling. Ziva has heard Abby pout so many times before, when she didn't get what she wanted or when something went wrong for her, and she always found it endearing. But this is different. This is much too hurt and raw. "You left," she says again, and she steps towards Ziva, who has to force herself not to step back. She remembers how Abby had screamed at her in this very same lab after the team brought her back from Somalia.

"Abby, I am sorry-" She's been rehearsing what she would say when she saw Abby again, but here in the lab now, with her old friend in front of her, the words almost seem too pathetic to say out loud. She doesn't mind when Abby interrupts her.

"You left the team. You left us." She says the words slowly and pauses to stare at Ziva. But then she waves her hands and begins talking faster, in that animated way that Ziva remembers so well. "But no, because you know what? I don't even care that you left. I mean, I do care, of course, but that's not why I'm mad. I mean, I know the kind of stuff you guys see in the field. You have to deal with all kinds of horrible things. If you needed to take a break from that, I totally get it. I don't even care, like, what specifically triggered it. I'm not even mad that you left. Maybe the guys are, I don't know, but like I said, I totally get it."

She pauses, and Ziva debates whether to say anything for a moment. Then, against her better judgement, she decides to ask the obvious question. "Okay, then," she says, keeping her voice calm, "what are you mad about?"

"You left without saying goodbye!" Abby explodes, screaming again, so loudly that Ziva winces. "Do you know who else left this team without saying goodbye?" She takes a deep breath, then says each of their names slowly. "Kate. Jenny. Mike. Jackson. And they _would_ have said goodbye to us if they could have. They would've said goodbye and hugged us and everything, but they didn't get the chance to do that. And _you_! You had the chance! You could've done it, but you _didn't_."

Ziva swallows hard. When she hears it put like that, she realizes how much she must have really hurt her team by leaving so abruptly. She pictures each of their faces in her mind - Kate, Jenny, Mike, and Jackson, the people who were taken from them so unfairly, much too suddenly and too soon - and she feels about two inches tall. Hadn't her team lost enough people already? How could she have left them like that?

"I... I wrote you a letter, Abby," she mumbles, too ashamed to look the other woman in the eye.

She must sound as pathetic as she feels, because some of Abby's anger deflates. "A letter?" she repeats. "Ziva, what am I supposed to do with that? Can I hug a letter?"

Ziva starts to say _"I'm sorry"_ a second time, but she knows that the words aren't enough. Then it occurs to her - maybe it might mean more if she said it in Abby's first language. So she makes a fist and moves it in a small circle in front of her chest, remembering one of the sign language words that Abby taught her years ago. _Sorry_.

The lights in the lab are dim because of the late hour, but Ziva can see that Abby's eyes are suddenly bright with tears. Abby pulls her into a hug then, and Ziva almost melts into it, relieved that Abby's hugs haven't changed. It still feels just as warm and safe and homey as she remembers Abby's hugs. Ziva has missed Abby's hugs so much that for a moment, she can't remember why she ever left.

* * *

Tony is relieved to see that there's still plenty of food left when he gets back to the bullpen. He walks from the elevator to the desks with a little bounce in his step and fixes a plate for himself. He loads it down with pizza, vegetables, and cookies - as much as the plate can hold - and as he sits down at his desk to eat, a thought suddenly springs into his head.

_I could get used to this._

He's still trying to figure out what _this_ is when he catches McGee smirking at him. "What?" he asks again, caught off-guard for the second time this evening.

McGee just smiles and shakes his head. "God, Tony, you're so obvious sometimes."


	6. Gibbs's House Again

This might disappoint those of you who were hoping for more outright Tiva in this story. I wanted to make it mirror the prologue as much as I could.

* * *

Like Tony, she had no sense of apprehension about what was coming. She had nothing in mind except spending a pleasant, normal Saturday afternoon at Gibbs's house. She had no idea who was waiting on the other side of Gibbs's always-unlocked front door.

The team has the weekend off work, and so Tony and Ziva are both there inside Gibbs's living room when she arrives. They hear her first - her high voice chattering away about something, then her light footfalls bouncing up the front steps and across the porch, just as Tony had done a few days ago. God, had it only been a few days? She pushes open the front door and steps inside, calling cheerily, "Gibbs? I'm he-ere!"

To Tony, it's both funny and sad how much her reaction plays out exactly like his. Amira stops short just inside the doorway, her brown eyes wide with surprise, when she sees Ziva there. She even drops the drink that she's holding in one hand - a little plastic pouch of juice with a straw - in the same spot where he had dropped that bottle of bourbon.

But luckily for Amira, Ziva doesn't just let her stand there like a gaping idiot, the way she had with Tony. "Hi, Amira," she says gently, smiling at the little girl. Then, because there's no way to ask the question without sounding awkward, "Do you, um, remember me?"

Amira recovers from the surpise much faster than Tony did, he thinks. She hastily bends down to pick up her juice pouch, then straightens up and studies her.

"Zeeba," she says softly, blinking her huge eyes.

Ziva makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, her shoulders shaking. Amira remembers. She remembers Ziva, and not only that, but she even remembers that silly nickname. When Amira was a toddler, _Ziva_ was too hard for her to say, so she'd pronounced it as _Zeeba_ instead, and Ziva thought it was so funny that Amira had kept doing it, even after she was able to say her name correctly.

"Yes," Ziva says, her voice emotional and full of relief. "Yes, it's me. I-"

"You _left_," Amira cuts her off, frowing.

Ziva winces as if she's just been struck. Somehow, hearing those two little words from Amira hurts far worse than Tony or Abby yelling at her.

"You left, and you didn't even say goodbye."

Ziva swallows hard. "I know I did, Amira, and I am very sorry. That is not what friends should do to each other." She pauses and takes a deep breath. Tony is still standing beside her, though he hasn't said anything, and she glances in his direction - just for the briefest moment, but of course he catches it - as she finishes, "I hope you can forgive me."

Amira tilts her head, as if considering this offer, and takes a sip from her juice pouch. She doesn't have any of the reservations that adults do. She isn't afraid to ask the question, and so she does, bluntly. "Are you back for good?"

_Are you back in DC for good, Ziva? Are you back to stay?_ Ziva has gotten this question from almost everyone in the few days since Tony found her at Gibbs's house. Ducky was too polite to ask, but everyone else did at some point - Abby, McGee, Ellie, even Palmer and Director Vance. She worded it a little differently with each of them, but they'd all gotten the same answer, the same one that she'd given Tony in the elevator. _I have not decided yet. I am sorry._

But Ziva can't even imagine giving that answer to Amira, not even a kid-friendly version of it. She can't believe how much Amira has grown; when Ziva doesn't answer her right away, the girl actually cocks one hip in impatient, much too grown-up gesture that almost makes Ziva's jaw drop. Can this really be the same Amira that she left behind in DC last year? Looking at her, Ziva realizes, for really the first time, how much it must have hurt the team when she left so suddenly. Looking at her, she has a whole new sense of just how long she has been away. And in that moment, Ziva decides.

"Yes," she says clearly, and she finds herself nodding. "Yes." She doesn't glance at Tony this time, but she can sense a change in him as he stands beside her, as if he's just grown taller, more buoyant. "Yes, I am back to stay. Yes." _Yes._ The word has never felt so good, so right, so natural on her lips. She wants to say it a thousand times.

"Okay, then." Amira's somber look disappears, replaced by that dimpled little grin, and all is forgiven, it seems. "You wanna see the picture I draw in school?"

In two minutes, she's sitting plopped on Gibbs's couch between Tony and Ziva, happily chattering away again. Tony glances up, at some point, to that spot on the floor where he dropped the bourbon, where Amira just dropped her juice pouch. He thinks that there might be a few drops of juice to wipe up, but there's nothing at all. It's just like the cut on his hand from the broken glass that night, which has now healed so well that Tony can't even tell where it was.

Over Amira's head, his green eyes find Ziva's black ones, and then, slowly, he lays his hand over hers on the couch. Tony notices Gibbs watching the three of them from his kitchen doorway, but he says nothing, just nods and leans against the doorframe - a rare relaxed move from Gibbs - as Amira's happy voice seems to fill the whole house.

* * *

Thanks again to everyone who's followed, favorited, and reviewed! I know lots of viewers are impatient to see what happens with Ziva in the new season, and I hope this story has helped tide you over while we're waiting.


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